Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“How’s the party been going for you?” he asks.
“Good. Mostly because we took a long walk on the beach.”
He nods, and I’m sure the walk was part of the update he received from his brother.
I turn and point out the relatives that Max met, telling Miles their names and conversational highlights, in case there are any gaps in the information he received. Giving him a recap is kind of fun. It makes me feel like I’m part of their prank, and it gives me something to focus on besides talking to my relatives and fielding all of their questions.
When family does come by to talk, Miles is, like earlier, as charming as his brother, and everyone is fooled.
When things are finally winding down and I’m looking forward to going back to the room, my mom flags us down. “Callie, Max, I need your help.”
“What can we do for you, Ms. Baker?”
Mom steps in close and cups her hand next to her mouth to shield what she’s saying from others, even though no one is near us. “Your great aunt Iris has had a bit too much to drink. Would you be able to escort her back to her room to make sure she gets to bed safely?”
As Miles is politely accepting the mission, I scan the area and find my white-haired aunt leaning against the bar. She’s holding a bottle of beer and talking loudly to a couple of younger cousins as well as the bartender.
“I’m afraid she was overserved,” Mom says.
“She’s a tiny lady. It probably wouldn’t take much to get her drunk.”
Mom shushes me. “Keep your voice down. I certainly wouldn’t want Mr. Hargrove to get the wrong impression about our family.”
“Is he even here?” There aren’t many people left, and I don’t see him.
Still whispering, Mom says, “He’s been gone for a while, but he could show up any time.”
“Well, don’t worry about Aunt Iris. Miles and I will take care of her.” It’s only when Mom’s head whips around that I realize I said the wrong name.
“Miles?” She looks back and forth between Miles and me.
Miles hardly misses a beat. “That’s my middle name. Callie likes it, and calls me that sometimes.”
“Max Miles?” Mom says the names together and repeats them once with a curious expression on her face. “Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?”
“My parents have an odd sense of humor. They like how it sounds like Max smiles.” He points to the corners of his mouth, exaggerating a grin.
Mom gives him an odd look, but finally nods in understanding. “Oh, I get it.”
I reach for Miles’s hand. “Don’t worry about Aunt Iris, Mom. We’ll get her settled.” Without waiting for a response, I set off across the lawn, letting out a long breath as I go. “Can’t believe I did that,” I say, when we’re out of Mom’s range.
He squeezes my palm in his. “It’s fine.”
“Only because you covered so quickly.”
“No worries. Have I met Aunt Iris yet? Max didn’t say anything about her.”
“Not yet. I don’t think I’ve seen her for a couple of years. I always thought of her as a nice, little old lady, but I’ve never seen her drunk.”
“You might be about to see a different side to her.”
As we approach, certain colorful words jump out at me. When we’re near enough to hear everything she’s saying, it becomes apparent that this sweet old lady is telling a joke that would make a sailor blush.
I stop short, my eyes bulging out as I look at Miles to see if he’s hearing what I’m hearing.
After a dramatic pause, Aunt Iris delivers the punchline. “No offense, sir, but if six shots won’t get rid of the taste, nothing will.”
The bartender tries not to laugh while my cousins erupt into giggles. Aunt Iris lifts her bottle and tips it back, draining the last of her beer. When she requests another, Miles and I move in.
“The bar is closing, Aunt Iris.”
“Callie? Is that you?” Her words are slightly slurred, but she seems steady on her feet as she gives me a hug and a kiss on my cheek. “I was looking for you earlier. I hear you have a new beau.”
As she turns her attention to Miles, I remind myself to get his name right, or rather, wrong. “Aunt Iris, this is Max.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, young man.” When he shakes her hand, she keeps hold of him. “What a strong grip you have there.” Next, she reaches for his bicep. “And what muscles! Callie, you have a strong one here.”
Miles stands patiently, keeping a pleasant expression on his face as my seventy- or eighty-something aunt fondles his arms—both of them.
“It’s time to go back to our rooms, Aunt Iris. Would you like to come with us?”
She makes eyes at my fake date. “I’ll follow Max wherever he’d like to lead me.”